Tag Archives: surprise

My new action packed belly…

Pregnant Nude with green belly by Egon Schiele This work is in the public domain in those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 90 years or less.
Pregnant Nude with green belly
by Egon Schiele
This work is in the public domain in those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 90 years or less.

I felt it move! At Week 18, as expected, I guess…

I had a sort of movement inside before, but it felt like a vein pulsing or a bit of gas finding its way around.

But 2 days a ago, it was somewhat different. You know when someone accidentally brushes against you? I felt that inside my abdomen.

And this morning, it was definitely there! It felt like a pulse on the belly, but a little more pronounced than usual. I thought if I touched my belly, I would feel it, but it stopped. I thought we would high five each other… Maybe still too early for that.

So this is what it feels like… a slight brushing inside…

The weird thing is, I am now getting bit by bit why everyone thinks pregnancy is such a great experience.

‘Le bebe’ is in me, close to me, and we are having “quality time” that we will not be sharing with anyone else… Because no one else is in my shoes, or in my belly 😀 No one else can know how exactly it feels to be so close to another being. And to have my body as a place of dwelling, a safe enclosure for a new life, a life ideally I am going to be responsible for…

Damn, I just realized I have gone all maternal…

It also scares me to feel the attachment grow by day, considering that I will be getting the amniocentesis results in a month and I might suddenly go from an aspiring mother to… carrier of a hollowed abdomen if I may be dramatic.

I am still trying to keep it as “scientifically cool” as possible, to be prepared for all sorts of amnio results, but it is not so very easy. Especially when pregnant women, mothers with tiny babies and baby stuff are jumping at my selective perception…

Especially when people keep asking me whether I know the sex or what name we have chosen… the name we have suspended the search for until the much anticipated results are ready.

Well, I will enjoy it while it lasts. Especially my new belly… It reminds me of the days when as kids we had a balloon, how at some point it ended up beneath our shirts… And do you remember how it moved when poked? As a whole. It feels like if I poke my belly, it will move around as a whole, as if unattached to my skin…

That’s it for pregnancy news on my part for the week… Will soon be back with more “action” inside!

First Ultrasound: A Landmark

Coliseum Theater New Orleans The building was damaged in Hurricane Katrina in August 2005; work was ongoing to restore it when it caught fire in February 2006 and was a total loss and the ruins demolished. This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license. http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Coliseum_Theater_New_Orleans_To_Have_and_Have_Not.jpg
Coliseum Theater New Orleans
The building was damaged in Hurricane Katrina in August 2005; work was ongoing to restore it when it caught fire in February 2006 and was a total loss and the ruins demolished.
This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

My pregnancy is advancing. 3 months already… I realized that pregnancy came with its surprises and I wondered, how come so many women got through the same thing but so little is told about some experiences throughout the whole process…

A few days ago turned out to be a landmark of surprises for me. I finally met my obstetrician, who seems very nice. I was expecting to be brushed off after a brief look at my blood tests… but I was actually asked if I wanted get an ultrasound done… Something I thought was unreachable here in Canada. As far as I can tell, most clinics do not have ultrasounds… And even if they do, it is hard to meet all the requirements to get to one, to feel the cool touch of one on the tummy…

So I thought the soonest I would be able to have the cold, transparent, semi liquid thing squished on my belly and be used as a skating ring for an ultrasound gadget would be in a month, at four months, that is…

Well, apparently, I was supposed to have gotten my ultrasound sooner… As told by my obstetrician, no other person I saw until I finally made it to her said anything about that! Come on, this is once in a lifetime (for me) experience and you guys are making me miss out on stuff…

Plus, I paid 130 dollars for it… The result: There really is a living thing in me!!! It was incredible… I shed a few tears, and could not believe, though it may sound cliché, that my hubby and I could have unprotected sex and produce a living being!

I never thought much about human’s or any other creature’s ability to procreate, but since that day at the obstetrician, this has changed for me… I cannot believe that the body whose only function was to move around, eat and shit until 3 months ago has now taken on a new mission, producing the right environment for a new living being to flourish…

Cheesy but still, it all gets one to wonder…

I was also astounded by how much that little thing of 5 cm, a tiny replica of the smallest baby, complete with a set of legs and arms and a huge round head (much like my husband’s) was moving! No one ever had told me that babies move no matter how small they are. I thought it would be sleeping and resting like a sea cucumber!

But no! It was so active that the doctor had difficulty making some measurements. Now I see why every parent to be, on seeing their kid on the ultrasound decide it will be a footballer…

Mine will be a dancer… despite the giant daddy head 😛

Hormonal resentment of the week: Of all the screenshots my dearest doctor (whom I will be seeing maybe 6 more times?) before labor only to be greeted by a completely strange person dressed in green to be by my side as one of the most valued parts of my body are being ripped apart…

The Guilt

“Don’t blame the sinner.”

She has been repeating this for a while now. I can relate to the expression. Life is not all black and white. Foreseeing your moves is sometimes not so easy. It is not a game of chess that we are playing. There can be unexpected incidents. Making the right decisions, coming to the right conclusions is not always clear cut. So, yes, the sinner should not be blamed.

“Don’t blame the sinner.”

Yes, she is right. People have weaknesses, they can make mistakes. They are entitled to erroneous moves. Everyone should be given a second chance. Even those who commit sins deserve to be loved and forgiven. Blame the sin, not the sinner. Yes, this is definitely true…

She keeps saying it over and over again. It is getting weary. The more she says it, the less meaningful the sentence is getting, like those words kids repeat over and over until words are dissected and turned into unconnected sounds.

She said it once more. Is she trying to convince herself by mumbling it endlessly? I can tell she is having difficulty coming to terms with “it”. She is playing with the strap of her purse, twirling it between her fingers, with the shadows of doubt passing through her eyes. If I were not sitting so close to her, I would have thought she was desperately praying with a rosary in her hand.

She said it once again. She seems so piously in pain. She could take any pain inflicted on her. She would only respond with a prayer, as long as she can hold onto her rosary. She looks so weak and frail, so easily breakable, so consumed in guilt…

There she goes again. She looks out through the window once in a while. She has these really sad eyes. They seem a bit moist, similar to those of a sad little puppy. She seems to be in need of something, but would never utter a word to ask for it, like a well trained pet.

And again… Her meek voice is so annoying. I cannot think anymore. The expectation to hear the same words once again… Knowing that she will not stop until we get to the last stop, that she will carry on, in the same manner… It is so irritating.

Not again! This reminds me of that ancient torture where they tie you up motionless and drip icy water on your head one drop at a time. You get to a point where you think they are cutting your head open. That is exactly how I am feeling right now.

Oh God, please not again!

And she did it! How long is this road? How far is this stop?! I cannot take it anymore. I am trapped here, in the middle of nowhere! I need to get out of here. I cannot take this woman anymore. She is suffocating me!

“Don’t blame….”

No! How can I shut her up? Is there no way of stopping her? Is there no way I can put an end to this?… She is about to say it again, she has turned towards me… Her lips are moving, she is going to say it!

“We shouldn’t have done it! We shouldn’t have! We just took part in the killing of a live being! I want to believe it was a moment of weakness, but how can I live with myself? How can you live with this guilt? We have murdered God’s creation!

“I keep telling myself, ‘don’t blame the sinner,’ but I am just not convinced. All this time, I thought I was a good person and now, look at what I have done! 20 years! I have lived 20 years as a strict vegan only to indulge myself in heaps of meat at an open buffet!”

Word Count: 639 The Speakeasy prompt for this week (#149) is to use “Don’t blame the sinner.” as the first line.

And make some sort of reference to the below picture:

Painting by Muriel Streeter
Source: http://www.lacma.org/art/exhibition/wonderland-surrealist-adventures-women-artists-mexico-and-united-states

No flowers for me, thanks!

The husband I have under my “jurisdiction” is a sensitive man though lacking in romantic chromosomes. The sole romantic action he has ever undertaken, apart from lending his lighter to a friend who was about to propose to his long term girlfriend, was scanning a comic I liked and mailing it to me when I went overseas.

But you see, at the time, we had been together for only four months. In other words, he still felt the need to woo me, which worked, giving me hope for future surprises…

A hope to be diminished in the years to follow.

On one Valentine’s Day, a time of the year we had never celebrated during our relationship of then four years, -since being the “intellectual” individuals we were, we saw it as a pretext for increased commercialized expenditure-, I decided I did want to obey the industrialized shopping day.

Despite my negative opinion about the day, given that we did not celebrate our relationship on any other day, I needed a change! I needed a “festivity” to show our love for each other.

So I called him on a mid February day, only to hear a woman’s voice, that of his mother.

I asked her to wake him up, which normally I would have never done and she would have never accepted. No one shall perturb her precious baby’s sleep, but she must have heard the determination in my voice, because eventually I heard his sleepy response at the other end of the line.


Thus, began my instructions:

“Get up, come over here to my place. On your way, buy me a bouquet of flowers. If possible, daisies. When you get here, act like it is a surprise and say ‘Happy Valentine’s!’ when you hand me the flowers”.

Being an engineer, he did an excellent job following clear instructions.

However, when I found out the price of the damn plants, I felt terrible. Plus, the flowers died a few days later, and guilt took over.

So, we went back to no celebration…

Especially, NO flowers!!!

So far, it has worked fine. We enjoy our evenings together, watching “Walking Dead” or cooking, or simply lying at the opposite ends of the sofa, our feet touching while we surf the internet on our laptops. These give me more pleasure than any high priced flower doomed to die in a few days. I think what we are doing is spreading the heightened pleasure that lasts a single day throughout the whole year…

Or so I would like to think… 😀

PS: I am still expecting a major proposal. After five years of relationship and three years of marriage, he must have figured out what I like, right? And he can’t go wrong! What are the chances I will reject him after having officially said “yes” a long while ago?…

Written in response to WordPress Weekly Writing Challenge (http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/10/writing-challenge-valentine/comment-page-4/#comment-310890)

The Ultimate Word Construction Site

I had fun constructing a piece at the below address word for word. It starts with a simple sentence and by adding words wherever you like, you literally get to unfold a story. It is a good writing challenge and an excellent exercise for wordholic brains.

Here is the one I built. Starts with the sentence: “I had fun.”


Enjoy 😀

Driverless Bus

And here we go again. The buzzer goes off and I have to get up to pour the coffee, to prepare the breakfast, to put my make-up on to get ready to earn money just so that we can buy a TV, a better bed, a new laptop.

My work life sucks out my livelihood just so that I can experience the happiness of shopping for a few hours per day. Just so that every evening, I can use my new laptop to surf the Internet to find something that might be of some interest to me. Just so that in the little bit of free time I have, I can find something to keep me interested enough not to think of the next day where I will be dealing with yet another day of work and the routine built around work.

After marking my eyes with the eyeliner, once again I pray for the future to arrive sooner. A future where I will be all groomed for the day by pressing one button. I laugh at myself thinking of the silly inventions of the sixties. Trying to brush off the feeling that I am doomed to live in the present that I would like to get over just so that I can arrive to that point in the future where my real life will begin. The real life that I will be enjoying every day. Where repetitive sentences will no longer exist.

I look at the mirror and hope that the smile will last me through the day, even when I get scolded for a comma I might have forgotten in the papers that I have typed. I hope that I can keep smiling even when I find myself reading file after another file with the same meaningless words and wonder why I had chosen to study for so many years. I wonder if just figuring out how to read and type was not enough to carry out the job that I have to do.

 At work, I turn on my computer and go through the files that are sent one after another incessantly. The time to leave is determined by the moment when I decide to overlook the e-mails that keep coming and make a move to turn off my computer. The thing about my work is that I already know what awaits me the next day. Before I leave for home, by looking through the e-mails I keep receiving, I can tell what I will be doing the next day.

Sometimes, I forget to look through the mails. One day I realized that although I had no solid idea about the schedule for the day, I already knew what to expect.

After work, once I can squeeze into the crowded bus, cramped with tens of tired looking fed up employees, I suddenly feel a little bit of excitement building up in my chest. The sort of excitement I used to feel as a kid, when I went to bed and dreamed about my future. My mother always told me I could be anything I wanted. My mother used to say this to me, the person I trusted most in the whole wide world. The person who would never lie to me. She must have believed it herself. Probably she saw some spark in me, some sort of accomplishment, the feeling that she had created a being that could walk, talk and take care of itself and even love. This being, her greatest achievement must be entitled to a bright future.

Thus, filled with confidence listening to her words, I dreamed myself an astronaut, a great ballerina, a famous physicist. In each dream, I would be smiling and shining.

That was the sort of excitement I was feeling in my chest when there was a sudden screech and the bus came to a halt. Noone moved, waiting for the bus to start again. Instead, the engine stopped and along with it the AC. A few minutes later, as the air was getting denser, and it was more and more impossible to breathe in the bus, a little bit of commotion started to stir the passengers. A few people tried the door while others watched. “Hey, driver! Open the door! We can’t breathe in here,” yelled one watcher. A response resonated from the front part of the bus: “Driver is outside checking the engine!”

We waited. By following the noise outside the bus, I tried to figure out the driver’s whereabouts but to no avail. It was completely quiet outside… Within the bus, people had started making calls on their mobile phones, asking for a friend, a spouse, a parent to pick them up in their car. Those who knew no one were calling taxis.

Completely unprepared for this change in my daily routine, I had still not reacted… Someone forced the front door open and one by one everyone got off.

I could hear some cars stopping by and car doors slamming, picking passengers who had just gotten off the bus. When it was finally my turn, there were only about 5 people left and by the time I had found my mobile phone, it was just a guy and myself left. After typing a few numbers, I looked around and realized that we were in the middle of nowhere. This was part of the city that was devoid of all residence. There was nothing in sight but one long and dark highway, lighted up only at one point by the bus headlights.

This road connected my neighborhood, the residential area to the city center where all the offices in tall skyscrapers were situated. Everyday, more than one third of the city’s population commuted between the two areas.

Today, a certain fraction of one third of the population was going to be late for dinner. Especially two of them would be very late.


My mother answered the phone.

“Mum, I-” and my phone turned dark.

I was left in the middle of nowhere with a driverless bright bus and a complete stranger…

To be continued… probably…